Don't Say Goodbye
by Child of the Stage
Summary: Spot/Lily romance. Coming-of age type love story. Bare with me- this started as a prose (1st par) and i'm seeing if it can go somewhere :)
1. The Beginning

There are wind-swept songs of days gone past that I don't understand- but am still plagued to hear. There are stories that begin in the salty air of Californian beaches, ideas that stem in the minds of poets sitting in the dusky cafés of San Francisco. There are dreams that form during long walks in hidden avocado groves at midnight under full moons and starry skies. There are days that bring new adventures and life-changing moments. There are nights that bring love and hate and magic and passion and all those beautiful things that only few of us get the God-given ability to understand. There are people that can bring out the hidden animal within- people that are given the gift to reach inside you like no one else can and take out the best and the worst and every other part of you that even you did not know you had.  
  
And that is what Mark Conlon became to me.  
  
But, as usual, I begin my story too early. I suppose I should go back to where this whole crazy mess started. It was only two years ago that I met Mark, then called Spot, but it seems as if an eternity has passed between us. When we met, we were two kids running around the streets of Brooklyn trying to make a buck for some food. It's funny how people change- how they grow up, mature. That's what happened to us. Living in the streets already causes someone to grow up fast, but the things we went through changed us forever. I was so naïve. 


	2. First Impressions

~*Thanks to all who reviewed and liked! No, Spot's real name isn't necessarily Mark (in the movie), but I just needed another name, because. yeah, Spot just won't work. :P I also want to note that I will not be using dialect writing- please use your imagination when hearing anyone speak :) *~ Child of the Stage (PS- anyone know any of the character names from Brooklyn besides Spot? or Why Spot is called Spot?)  
  
It was two years before today that I first met Mark (better known to you all as Spot). My father had run off on me, my mother had died. I was numb with all that had happened to me. My mother had been everything to me. After my father had left, she was my rock-the strong one of the family. And now- now she was gone. I was an orphan. I felt as if no one loved me, as if I was uncared for and I was the only one in the world who had no one.  
  
I was incredibly wrong.  
  
Walking the streets of Brooklyn, alone and cold, and with only a few dollars in change with me, I saw the newsboys hawking headlines and papers. I wondered if they had anyone- if any children with parents were really so desperate and impoverished as to let their children out in dangerous places at all hours of the day. Then I realized that many had no parents- that most of them were probably orphans  
  
Just like me.  
  
I searched around, looking to see if I could find one of the paperboys that looked like they would be willing to help me. I passed a few that gave me dirty looks- as if I was trying to take something from. Others looked at me as a hungry cat eyes its prey. Finally, I saw a younger boy on the corner down to one last paper. I don't know what it was about him that made him seen more approachable, maybe it was his deep blue eyes, or his shy smile, but either way I paused for a moment to say a quick Hail Mary, made myself look a bit more presentable and a bit less scared, and sauntered up to him in a nonchalant way. Hey you," I called out with pseudo-confidence, "how much for a newspaper?"  
  
He looked at me strangely, as if I had said something wrong, "You mean how much for a pape? That'd be a nickel miss" [AN: Much apologies- no clue how much a paper was back then]  
  
"And how much do you pay for a newspaper?" I asked him more seriously.  
  
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me, "What's it to you?"  
  
I knew at that point that I could hold it no longer. I let down my guard and decided that the truth was best. "Look kid, I have barely enough money for food and board, I'm cold, and I became an orphan about 2 days ago." I said coldly. I punctuated the last part of my speech to get my point across, "I need a job."  
  
He looked me up and down, his eyes still narrowed in suspicion. I stared back at him coldly, realizing that the only way to make it now was to be cold and tough with people. He suddenly smiled, "well it looks like you could make it. We ain't had many girl newsies lately, I suppose you'll do. You sure have the stare that'll get a point across" I gave him a fake, sarcastic laugh as I tried on my new character- the cold, new me. "C'mon", he said, "there's someone we gotta take you to see. Spot. He's the leader of us. And I would be Knuckles- and just so you know, that means that I ain't afraid to use 'em." He said with a smug look  
  
"Ohhh look, I'm trembling" I said mockingly.  
  
He laughed out loud, and I realized that by being this new, colder person, I had gained acceptance. I fought the urge to smile. "C'mon. let's go." 


	3. Real Friends

~*I know I know. Ive been gone forever. Im SORRY IM SORRY!!  
  
Together we walked the cold Brooklyn streets. I could tell by the ever growing scent that we were nearing the docks at the river. I had never been a fan of fish, and cringed at the thought of having to be by here every day. Stop complaining; I thought to myself, You need a job.  
We weaved through fisherman and loading docks, having to deal with catcalling all over again. Being an orphaned girl at sixteen did not have as much anonymity as I had thought. I crossed my arms around me and looked at my feet, trying to follow behind Knuckles as best I could. Finally, we passed right next to a fisherman who must have been no more than a few year's my senior, who smiled sneeringly and started saying something. I was going to speed up, but then both the fisherman and I got a surprise.  
"hey, why don't you SHUT UP and go back to your fish, scumbag" Knuckles turned and looked at the fisherman with steel in his eyes as he slipped an arm around me, and THEN sped up. The look on the fisherman's face was priceless  
When we were a good distance away from the dock, Knuckles slipped his arm off my shoulder and I looked at him with a smile on my face   
"Thanks." I said shyly. Funny, but I realized at that moment that I had found a true friend  
"was nothing. Now." He said pointedly and stopped, turning to face me. "You, my friend, need to toughen up for a minute. We're about to meet Spot. He's the leader of all us newsies out there, and he ain't the easiest guy to please."  
"Spot, huh? Do all you'se kids have funny names?" Knuckles shot me a look of death "alright, alright, it was just a joke…."  
"We ain't have time for jokes with Spot! He's been through some troubles, and he's probably the only person I know who could stare down someone like you." He said, looking into my brown eyes. I made the cold hard steel again- like me. Cold. Hard. Steel.  
"You ready?" he asked  
"ready for what? To meet some guy who's gonna try and bully me around? Let him try." I said confindently, though I didn't feel it.  
Knuckles laughed again. I turned to steel a little more. "Alright, let's go." 


End file.
